Along Came a Lady Spy
by Soumyee
Summary: She is the princess of a beautiful country. Along came a lady spy with the intent to steal the talisman of her kingdom's fortune. Err... Where is the hero on the white horse?
1. Royally Screwed

_Okay, this is my first Daa! Daa! Daa! fic, and I hope it turns out good... The names for the kingdoms, and other places will be taken from several manga/anime - Daa! Daa! Daa!, Ranma 1/2, Fairy Tail, Zero no Tsukaima, more to come... The characters all belong to Mika Kawamura, and I think, maybe, Heiomachi belongs to the Govt of Japan...._

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_**Royally Screwed**_

Kanata was, by all means, royally screwed, no double entendres. Born into the proud nobility of the kingdom of Fiore, shined upon by the Gods of Wealth, Cunning and Bravery, with a handsome visage and a refined demeanor, he was a prime example of oh-so-delectable masculinity. The elusive Saionji Kanata, who turned more pretty heads than the Prince himself… The strong, silent, seductive Saionji Kanata, whom the Princess herself desired so ardently, that she made no secret of her vociferous declarations of love… The unforgettable Saionji Kanata, who, for some reason, was garbed in a long white skirt _with lace…!_ and sulking behind a merchant's stables in the small town of Heiomachi far away from home…

"Responsibility, my foot!" And so saying, he proceeded to smash the said appendage against the feeding trough lying behind the stables and inches away from where he sat on a pile of hay. The trough, being made of solid stone and full to the brim with an assortment of whatever grains horses gobbled, suffered less damage than his already sore foot bound in pinch-y girly shoes. "Dammit!" Nursing his wounded feet and ego, he sulked some more.

Slightly more than two weeks before, when he had been clashing swords with one of his attendants in the courtyard of his castle, he had received an urgent missive from the wizened old King Hikarigaoka. Sheathing his sword and grabbing his cloak, he had mounted his horse and proceeded to the royal palace. Being the son of the Grand Minister of Fiore, and the right hand man of the Prince, he enjoyed an unrestrained passage into the palace at all times. Dismounting, and marching straight through to the Council Room, where he knew his father and the old King would be waiting, he had made his presence known. "Your Majesty, my humble greetings."

The King had smiled a crinkley-eyed smile and welcomed him effusively into his embrace. A bit _too_ crinkley-eyed, and a bit _too_ effusively. That should have warned him, and it did, but a King is a King and not to be denied. Then, the wizened monarch had proceeded to embark upon a long-winded tale about how Fiore was fast losing its prosperity and grandiose, how he was absolutely heartbroken about it, and how Kanata was to dress up as a girl and go over to that rogue neighboring kingdom of Halkeginia and steal their Lucky Charm of Prosperity and bring it back to Fiore. All the while, the old King had smiled down at him like he was a favorite sheep being sent for shearing. And all the while, his father had uncomfortably shifted from one foot to another, probably hoping to escape his son's inevitable eventual wrath, although it was futile – a scheme that ranged this high on the scale of ludicrous foolishness, was bound to have been hatched by his father.

It had been one of the rare occasions when Kanata had turned his charming smile upon the Princess of Fiore. Princess Christine, who had chosen to take her mother's family name, Hanakomachi, rather than that of Fiore's royal family's, had immediately swooned, and then thrown herself at her father's side and, with her eyes as big as the royal saucers and shinier than them, implored him to let Kanata stay and instead send her brother away. Prince Nozumu, who _had_ taken royal family name, Hikarigaoka, had frowned at this and crossed his arms. But the old King would not budge.

In the end, Kanata had been forced to bow his acceptance and retire from the Council Room with a constipated smile on his face. The day for the proposed journey to the treacherous lands of Halkeginia had been selected, and two weeks later, Saionji Kanata found himself abandoning his fine silken shirt and pants and donning a lacy cotton skirt and blouse, leaving behind his castle and Fiore to travel on foot with his trusted attendant by his side. Oh yes, he was to disguise himself as a woman – a woman looking for employment as a lady's handmaid, to be specific – who was traveling the lands with her nice strong husband by her side. His attendant, Santa, had found immense amusement in the situation, and insisted upon referring to him as "my _darrrrling_ wife" in front of every person they encountered.

"Let me get back to Fiore, and I'll have him flayed!" Kanata muttered mutinously to the feeding trough.

Voices floated upon the air and to his ears as two people rounded the corner of the stable, leading two horses behind them. "Oh yes," Santa was saying, "my _darrrrling_ wife here has severely bruised her feet by walking over such rough terrain for nigh on two days. It is so difficult to travel through wild country, and my _darrrrling_ wife nearly wept with joy when we finally reached this town. At last, we could find horses!"

"Ah, yes, yes. I am pleased to have been of service to you, and I must say, your wife _is_ a darling." Here, the horse merchant slid a sidelong glance at said wife perched on the pile of hay and licked his lips and grinned toothily.

Kanata snarled inwardly. With difficulty, he restrained himself from openly growling in a patently un-womanly fashion, and settled for pointedly turning his face away.

Santa snorted, immediately masking it with a polite cough, before sticking out his hand to the merchant. "Well, my good man, we must now be off. If our paths cross again, let us sit by a fire and drink some wine and make merry. Till then, fare thee well!"

"Aye, and you, too." The merchant nodded, and they shook hands.

And so saying, Santa took the reins for both horses in his hands and led them to his "_darrrrling _wife". The two of them mounted and with a last wave from Santa to the merchant, they galloped away.

~*~

The kingdom of Halkeginia lay beyond the snow-capped Western mountains, tucked away in isolation from the rest of the lands. On the North, East and South of the kingdom, the high peaks of the Horaizon mountain range stood sentry against the hulking beasts and bands of bandits who roamed the forests surrounding the foothills of the mountains on all sides. No man, beast or bird was allowed past their unforgiving craggy heights, not even the Westerly winter winds could whisper their way in. The only path to Halkeginia lay from its West, where the white sands of its lands rolled out to meet the blue waters of the sea.

Thus protected on three sides, the conveniently located kingdom needed to deploy its army on only one frontier, and any other kingdom would be foolish to attack on that side – they would be stuck out on the sea, with no access to land for months till the battle wore itself out, while the Halkeginians would be safely waiting for them on land, their ships able to return every day for restocking and re-equipping. Trade was booming in the kingdom, as the Gods of Fortune had blessed them generously with several gold and diamond mines within the inbound foothills of Horaizon, and the melted ice from their frozen peaks traced myriads of little rivers through the land, keeping it fertile enough for four crops every year, even without rain. It helped that the sea abounded in fish, and several clever merchants and healers had discovered ways to extract heaps of salt from the seawater and medicines from the seaweed – all three of these forming Halkeginia's main export products.

The people of Halkeginia were more than self-sufficient, they were well off. There was not a pauper in the entire kingdom, and famine or drought were no more than threats directed at stubborn little children who refused to sleep. The people were honest and hard working, and all in all, the kingdom was glorious.

The glory and prosperity of Halkeginia, did not go unenvied by the kingdoms beyond the mountains. Once upon a time, several centuries ago, wars had been fought for possession of the lands surrounding the mountains, each of the kingdoms desirous of staking its armies at the foothills of Horaizon in order to be able to blast a path through the mountains and on to the tempting kingdom. In the past, each successful kingdom had come and tried to excavate the ancient stone, and every one of them had suffered huge losses in the dark shadows of the mountains. Entire armies had vanished mysteriously, the Kings had fallen ill and died, the people had been consumed by unexplainable hatred and killed each other. For years, this had continued, until the kingdoms had accepted the utter impossibility of the task, and given up. The Western mountains, for some unfathomable reason, had decided to be kind to only Halkeginia.

In time, the kingdoms had moved further away from the cursed shadows of the mountains, and the land there was now forested and crawled with all kinds of beasts and outlaws and bandits. As the kingdoms settled into more peaceful lifestyles, a sort of truce was silently agreed upon and trade was established with Halkeginia. With trade came merchants, and storytellers, and tales and rumors from the strange land hidden amidst the mountains.

One particular rumor had taken an especial stronghold amongst the fireside babblers. They spoke of a talisman, a Charm bestowed upon the royal family of Halkeginia by the Gods of Horaizon, which protected them from all adversity. This Charm was responsible for the mysterious power that shielded the mountains from the enemies' attacks. This Charm was responsible for the perennial snow that crowned the sentinel peaks. This Charm was responsible for the plentiful sea that lapped at the shores of the kingdom. This Charm was of such unimaginable power that kept the kingdom glorious.

Unrest and greed had reared their heads once more, but a lack of means had kept them at bay. And it was into this unstable balance of power that Kanata had been thrown headfirst, with not so much as a by-your-leave, and left pretty much to his own means. The old King of Fiore wanted the Charm for himself, and that was all there was to it. Kanata could either go ahead with his mission and travel to Halkeginia as a lady spy without any known means of communicating with anyone from Fiore, or refuse and then say goodbye to his life of nobility forever to live in exile in some distant kingdom.

'Yes,' he thought to himself, 'I am royally screwed.'


	2. The Road to Halkeginia

_**The Road to Halkeginia**_

As the glittering veil of darkness stole across from behind them, the red embers of the dying sun spilled over the brink of yonder horizon, reaching out with fading tendrils of light. Kanata and Santa pulled to a stop outside an inn overflowing with welcoming light and forbidding mould. Staring at the mould and mildew steadily clinging to the eaves of the rustic wooden building, Kanata frowned. Gone was the downy comfort of his own magnificent bed back in his castle, it was even too much to ask for a tolerable haystack, and now… he would have to sleep on _mould!_

Sighing, he prepared to dismount, when the rickety wooden door was thrown open, drenching them in the warm glow from the merrily crackling fire inside. A portly man with a ruddy moustache stood framed in the doorway, all his grinning yellow teeth mercifully hidden due to the shadows casting him into a silhouette. "Welcome," he boomed out, "welcome to my humble inn, kind Sir."

Kanata narrowed his eyes at the landlord, not missing the seemingly natural exclusion from the greetings bestowed. 'What am I, the bag of supplies?' Was this how women were treated in the countryside? Sheesh, talk about disparity.

Nevertheless, he flipped his long dark fake hair over his shoulder and prepared to dismount once again. With surprising speed, Santa leaped off his horse and snatched the reins from Kanata's hand, his other hand shooting out to hover palm upwards near Kanata's knee. For a single moment, Kanata simply stared at the offered appendage with raised eyebrows, before Santa coughed to draw his attention and spoke, "Now, my _darrrrling_, there's nothing to be afraid of. Just hold onto my hand, and I'll bring you down safely." He shot a meaningful glance at Kanata, bewaring him to go along, and the unfortunate young lord glared miserably at his attendant.

'The things I have to do…' With a sense of mortifying unease, he slowly placed his hand in Santa's and let his 'husband' help him down. Santa smothered his chuckles.

A scruffy boy, apparently the page, came forward to take their horses away to a shabby looking stable, and then the landlord led them into the inn and up a flight of stairs, making inconsequential conversation. "And how long would you be staying in our care, kind Sir? I do hope that you will let us serve you for quite a while. 'Tis a pretty little town, Heiomachi is. Have you seen the sights yet?"

"Unfortunately, we have not long in this town. We will be heading out to the port city of Nerima tomorrow morning. Perhaps, we shall be able to enjoy your hospitality once again when we return." Santa replied politely.

"Aye, may you be traders, young Sir?" The landlord enquired, casting a doubtful glance at the woman in accompaniment.

"Ah, not at all, not at all. My _darrrrling_ wife and I are visiting her brother, who lives in Nerima. We have had good tidings from there – my wife here is to be an aunt! And we're making our way there to wish them great happiness and joy upon their good fortune!"

"Ah, very good tidings, indeed, indeed!" The landlord offered a fake smile, obviously caring nothing about what tidings came from a strange woman's brother's family. "Well, we're here, kind Sir. This is a very good room, if I may say so myself. It faces the West, and lies in the lee of the chill winds at night – very warm indeed. Please make yourselves comfortable. What time would you like for your dinner to be sent over?"

"In half an hour's time should be sufficient." Santa smiled and then dismissed the portly man with a nod.

With the door shut and the landlord's pattering feet indicating him safely out of earshot, Kanata growled at the skirt he wore. It irritated him to no end that he was unable to speak or participate in any dealings with men, instead having to meekly follow his attendant who did all the talking. He itched to bestow scathing remarks at every self-important man who either ignored him, or cast lecherous glances at him. It was hideous how little they thought of women, and he wondered how or why the King of Fiore could be unaware of such inequity. He would have to bring this to the attention of his useless father once he got back home.

Turning around to finally survey the room, he suddenly stopped short. There, in the middle of the small room, lay a bed. There, in the middle of the bed, lay Santa, oblivious of his master's scrutiny. A single bed. Just. One. Bed.

"Santa, get off the bed. You're sleeping on the floor."

_*SNORE!*_

Sighing, and feeling a headache about to start pounding, he grabbed his prone attendant by his ankles and hauled him off the bed and onto the floor. Santa did not seem to notice.

Once the dinner arrived, Kanata ate his fill, leaving the rest for Santa to eat whenever he woke up, and proceeded to lie down on the bed. The wooden planks beneath the mattress creaked in greeting and splinters of coir poked out of the mattress and pricked him all over his body. A heavy breath escaped his lips. It was going to be a looooooong night…

~*~

Early next morning, Kanata rose from the bed, every muscle declaring mutiny against his mind. The sleep had done more harm than good to him, and he had a damn fiery temper to let the landlord know exactly _what_ he thought of his shabby inn! A cheery greeting from his attendant doused the flames quite effectively.

"Good mooorning, my darling wife!" Santa waved from his perch near the door.

Having to wake up and see Santa everyday… Kanata gripped at his fake hair and pulled with all his might, feeling a modicum of satisfaction when he found that he could pull as much as he liked without causing any pain to himself. So he continued to pull some more, till his knuckles cracked with a very satisfying _*crrrack!*_ In a better mood now, he stood up and walked over to the basin in the corner of the room to wash the weariness out of his face. As he stared at his reflection in the water pooling into the stony hollow, a truly vindictive idea wormed its way into his mind.

Finishing scrubbing at his face, he turned around and ordered, "Santa, pick up all the bags, we're leaving right now."

"Yes, yes…" Shouldering both their bags, Santa moved to open the door, when Kanata's crisp voice hailed him once more, "Not that way, _this_ way!" Turning around, he stared at the window Kanata pointed to, and gaped stupidly. His oh-so-sensible master was planning to escape through their second floor window and run away without paying for their stay.

"What are you waiting for? Come over here and get out!"

Rolling his eyes at Kanata's childishness, he nevertheless moved to do as bidden, and in the wee hours of the morning, when the mist had still not risen, the two travelers sneaked out with their horses past the sleeping stable boy and hit the road to Nerima, a hearty gale of laughter ringing in the air in their wake.

~*~

The road from Heiomachi to Nerima was long and deserted, with not one tree to shelter them from the sun, nor a well to slake their thirst. The three leatherskins of water they carried were sparingly shared between them, the few morsels of stale bread just enough to keep the edge off of their hunger. There was no rest for the travelers for that whole day and night, and they rode on well into the next day before they arrived at Nerima.

As the midday sun evilly leered down at the helpless mere mortals who would – if religion had not forbidden such a thing – have very much liked to shake their fists back at it, Kanata and Santa passed through the tall wooden gates guarding the entrance to Nerima. A surge of smells and sounds suffused their senses, and after the prolonged solitude of their journey heretofore, they were momentarily overwhelmed. Colors dazzled them from every side as flower girls and carpet weavers and bird catchers and painters showed off their wares to lure in customers. Quaint stalls with white canopies lined both sides of the main thoroughfare, and merchants from all the kingdoms of the land hailed the passersby in boisterous tongues. Apothecaries spread out their medicines and herbs on straw mats, numerous jars of pickled frogs throwing in their pungent odors into the fray.

The city thrummed with life and activity, as was to be expected of the primary centre of all trades to and from Halkeginia. Kanata and Santa slowly made their way through the city, drinking in the unusual sights and feeling their moods slowly lifted by the profusion of cheeriness in the air. Slowly, leisurely, they made their way away from the crowded markets and towards the crowded harbor.

As they steadily cantered towards the West of the city, the air took on a different quality. There was a twangy feel to the air, which Kanata identified as the smell of salt, and the breeze blew stronger and cooler. They spurred their horses faster and rode up an incline, and as they crested the rise in the road, they took in a deep breath and gazed out at their first view of the sea. It stretched on and on endlessly, shimmering like a field of bluebells rippling in the breeze after a light shower, the little raindrops dancing in the rays of the sun. Little waves tumbled around the support-shafts of the pier in a spray of white foam. Seagulls soared over the highest masts of the ships docked in the harbor and settled down in droves upon their crow's nests.

From their vantage point, the two travelers could see quite a lot of activity going on upon the docks. Crates and casks of unknown goods were being loaded and unloaded from the ships, and shoals of fish were hoarded into large barrels and whisked off into waiting carriers. Gangplanks were milling with people boarding or disembarking from the ships, and several young boys scurried around with pails of water, scrubbing down everything wooden in sight. Even more men with planks of wood under their arms were busy hammering repairs into the ships' hulls and decks. The ships were being restocked with brigs and dinghies, and carts full of coal disappeared down their hatches.

Swinging their heads about, taking in all that they could, Kanata and Santa urged their horses onwards and into the harbor. They enquired about ships sailing to Halkeginia and bought themselves two tickets on a ship that departed in eight hours. Grateful for the respite it afforded, they made their way back into the residential part of the city and found themselves a respectable looking inn, where they washed, ate and slept, till it was but an hour before they were to depart. Leaving the inn, this time in a respectable fashion, they rode into the market to find a stable to sell their horses. This accomplished, they then proceeded on foot towards the harbor, where they would board the ship and finally, finally, head out to Halkeginia.

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_I think this may be the longest chapter I have ever written in my life.... =.=" Whew!_


	3. The Legend of Halkeginia

_A few comments about Kanata and Santa, before I begin. I am not going to delve deep into their pasts and upbringing, but for the sake of completeness, I am going to point out a few key influences upon their characters. Kanata acts like a spoiled young lord at times, simply because he IS a spoiled young lord. He has grown up in luxury and has always been surrounded by admirers. He has never had to work hard at anything except whatever he wished to - namely, fighting skills. Therefore, he will be crabby and snobby sometimes, but not for long. Thrust into the life of a commoner, he'll soon learn responsibility. _

_Santa, on the other hand, is an attendant who has likely grown up in relative poverty and upon coming of age (say, fifteen), he set out to find a job for himself and landed up into the position of attendant at the Saionji castle. Therefore, he is more used to the life of commonfolk, and as such, does not mind hardship as much, and is also aware of the socially acceptable behavior from women in lower classes of society. Hence, his hurried offering to help the femininely disguised Kanata from his horse._

_That said, on with the story! ^o^_

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_**The Legend of Halkeginia**_

It was early in the morning – so early in fact, the many would have still called it night – when their ship rumbled into the port city of Tristain situated at the west side of Halkeginia. Having been assailed by an unexpected bout of sea-sickness, Kanata had spent the entire journey throwing up into a pail in the corner of the small cabin they were given. Santa, choosing to not be confined within the enclosed space reeking of vomit, had sauntered out about on the deck of the ship, enjoying the whippy wind and the starry waves. His mood sour, Kanata grumbled the entire way from the cabin and down the gangplank and up to the platform outside the harbor where several carriages stood parked, their drivers lounging about, hoping to be able to get passengers from amongst the crowd departing the harbor.

Picking the closest carriage, Santa instructed the driver to take them to the nearest inn they could find. The ride to the "nearest" inn took a suspiciously long while, during which Kanata's mood got only worse as the incessant rocking and jerking motions made by the carriage served to slosh his stomach all the more. Santa busied himself with peering out through the window on his side of the carriage, and could have sworn that they went past the same stone fountain at least thrice. But that couldn't be, could it? After all, the traders all told tales of how honest and hard-working the people of Halkeginia were…

The carriage finally came to a stop outside a huge wooden house, which was bound to be extraordinarily expensive, and after a LOT of gold passed hands between Santa and the driver, the two travelers trudged their weary feet up the steps of the inn and into its wide foyer.

The inn did turn out to be impossibly pricey, but to hell with money! Kanata needed his rest, and Santa could only cower under his _darrrrling_ wife's glare. With great relief and gratitude, they were finally shown their rooms and Kanata collapsed into one of the beds and slipped into blissful rest.

~*~

It was noon when Kanata woke up, and even so, he lay in bed for quite some time, unwilling to leave its warmth. A strange _squeek_-ing noise finally caused him to stretch luxuriously and then sit up to look around the room. Santa sat cross-legged on his bed, polishing his sword with a piece of cloth, the white rag going _squeek pweek squeek pweek_ back and forth over the steel blade. Sensing movement behind him, Santa turned to look at Kanata and opened his mouth cheerily. A _hiss _and a _twang_ and he suddenly found his forelocks detaching themselves and floating down to litter around his lap. He turned to look at the wall opposite and gulped to find a sword sticking out of the wood of the bureau, its hilt still quivering gently from the force of the impact.

"If you don't want that sword to hit closer to your eyes, shut up and don't call me darling." Kanata groused.

"Yes, Sir!"

"Now, what time is it?"

"Eleven in the morning, Sir!"

"Where is our breakfast?"

"I'll tell the landlord to send it right up, Sir!"

"Good."

~*~

Fully rested and fed, Kanata now focused his attention on the mission at hand. Santa made of show of pressing his finger to his lips before tiptoeing across the room to open the door and peer into the corridor. Signaling all-clear with a thumbs up, he then proceeded to bolt the door shut and moved the bureau in front of it, before tiptoeing over to the window on the opposite side of the room and ensuring that no one was loitering outside it, three stories above the ground. Happily confirming the lack of flying eavesdroppers, he closed the window shut as well, and jammed his dagger into the window handles to lock them. And all the while, Kanata tapped his foot impatiently and glared at the insufferable attendant through narrowed eyes.

Finally unable to take it any longer, he snapped. "Santa! There is NO ONE under the bed! Now, haul yourself back here and listen to me!"

"Aye, aye, Sir!"

Finally settling down, Kanata elaborated on their mission, what they knew and what they had to find out. "So, we know, doubtless, that this Charm is bound to be under heavy security, and safeguarded at all times by as many soldiers as possible. The best warriors of the kingdom are bound to be involved in its protection. Which means that there could only be very few places it could be in."

Santa nodded, his face comically serious.

Kanata continued, uncaring, "It could be in the palace, first. It could be in the royal temple, second – no one would think of raiding a temple, and the strong spiritual powers of all the priests and priestesses combined is definitely a force to be reckoned with. It could also be hidden in their gold and diamond mines – the security there is strong as hell, and there aren't many entrances to the mines, which will make it difficult for anyone to go in unnoticed."

"Why not somewhere near the training grounds? There are bound to be numerous fighters there at all times." Santa quipped.

Kanata leveled him a stare. "What did I say about the kind of warriors who are most likely to be protecting it? The best. They must be the best! A large number of mediocre soldiers is of no use if a cunning and very fast thief comes along. A Charm of such power must be defended at all times by the best guard!"

"Alright, alright. So say, that the Charm could only be present at one of those three places. Now what do we do about it?"

Kanata drew his brows into a thoughtful frown and pondered the problem. At length, he spoke again. "Entry to the mines will probably be forbidden without explicit authorization by someone in charge of it. However, entry to the temple is not forbidden at any time. Entry to the palace is not forbidden, but it is restricted. If we were to choose as such, the temple would be the best place to begin, but, I do not think a normal worshipper would be permitted to be let into their secret chambers. Again, we would need special authorization by someone in power. But then again, the person in charge of the mines may not have power upon the temple."

Santa "hmm"ed his consent.

"So, it all comes down to this. We must get someone in a position of immense power to trust us and thus, allow us to visit all the secret chambers in all the places as we please." He paused here for a moment, mulling over a scheme, and by the way he worried his bottom lip, Santa concluded it was not going to be an easy scheme. Finally, Kanata appeared to have come to a conclusion and he nodded to himself. He looked up at Santa, his gaze challenging, and a telltale smirk twisting his lips. "We must get close to someone in the royal family."

~*~

That evening, the two of them set out to scout out the city of Tristain, and find horses for the journey to the capital of Halkeginia. Deciding to part ways so as to be able to cover more ground, the attendant went in search of an ale house where he could doubtless meet plenty of drunk and loose-lipped men, while his master, with much snarling and pouting, went in search of somewhere where he could find a lot of gossiping women.

Kanata briskly walked along past stately houses, obviously belonging to wealthy merchants, and playing children and a street lined with tanners and butchers and as he walked, he noticed several things that differentiated the Halkeginians from the other people he had ever met. They were fair of hair and light of skin, most of them sporting golden, light brown or flaxen hair, with the darkest shade being copper. Blue, green and grey eyes peered curiously at his foreign appearance, what with his long fake russet hair and auburn eyes. The women of Halkeginia were shorter than those of Fiore, and more graceful, while the men were all clean shaven regardless of age. With his tall stature, Kanata was bound to stand out like a sore thumb amongst the puny women here.

Finally, his feet led him to square in the middle of the city, where four paths intersected. The square was brightly decorated with colored flags and streamers, and colorful lanterns hung from the houses that lined the square. A huge crowd was gathered here and loud music and the tingling melody of a tambourine resounded in the air. There was laughter and merrymaking and faintly, through a slit-like gap amidst the closely thronging mass of bodies, he could make out a swish of colors whirling past at a frenzied pace.

Curious, he slowly eased his way deeper into the crowd till he stood nearly at the front and could see the performance going on. It was a group of street performers, enacting out a play. They wore flowing garments of chiffon in every color imaginable, the women baring their midriffs and the men wearing turbans. Several fake trees made of planks of wood and paper stood in the middle of the square in imitation of a forest, and fake hills surrounded the trees on one side. The play seemed to be about a young girl of six years of age, who wandered into the Horaizon Mountains and got lost.

Kanata watched, as the little girl, dressed in a shimmering golden skirt and wrapped in a deep blue shawl, looked about herself in panic, before collapsing to her knees and starting to cry. Quite a few of the women in the surrounding crowd held their hands over their hearts, their expressions conveying sympathy. The little girl started speaking in a mumble, her words interspersed with hiccups and sobs, "Oh poor, poor, me! I am lost and it is dark and a wild beast will come along now and kill me. Mama, Mama! Help me, Mama! Where are you? I don't want to be alone…"

The harpist struck a sorrowful tune that trembled momentarily in the air before fading away. The tambourine sounded discordantly, and a drum was struck repeatedly with the gravity of doom. One of the street performers, who appeared to be both a mimic and a ventriloquist, boomed like the thunder and hissed like the rain. Brightly blazing torches were flashed through a sheet of cellophane to imitate lightening. In the middle of the ominous scene, the little girl shivered pathetically from cold and fear and huddled in upon herself.

Suddenly a firefly flew past her, like a streak of hope amongst a cloud of gloom… The little girl watched in a daze for a moment, before she started running after the firefly. The firefly zig-zagged in between the trees and the girl dashed madly in order to keep up. She tripped over a tree root and went sprawling down to the ground. The crowd around gasped collectively and made soothing noises to the girl who, as was her job, ignored them in favor of crying to herself.

Suddenly a disembodied chirruping, clearly the ventriloquist's doing, broke out from near the tree where the girl fell. Startled by the sudden loss of silence, the girl looked around herself, and her eyes landed on a small squirrel, which was chattering in fear and grief and staring at the girl with frightened eyes. Stupefied to find a creature smaller and even more helpless than herself alone amidst the howling storm in the dark forest, the little girl held her hand out to comfort the squirrel. The squirrel looked at her hand for a long time, frozen with doubt and torn by longing, before it slowly nudged forward and hopped into her palm. The little girl brought the squirrel close to her chest, and all through the night, she held it there and warmed it and comforted it, bravely holding her own tears back.

Morning rays of the sun found the girl still awake, huddling near the roots of the tree, protectively holding the squirrel close to her. As the sun rose fully, and the rain ceased to pour, the little squirrel chirruped to life and then peered out at the abundance of light all around. With a delighted little squeak, it wriggled out of the little girl's hands and bounded away out of sight. Suddenly bereft of her only companion, the little girl felt lost for a moment, before she bravely raised her chin and put on a smile on her face. "If a little squirrel is not afraid of the mountains anymore, I shall not be scared either."

Even as the words just barely fell from her lips, a blinding light erupted before her and she threw her arms over her eyes to shield them from sightlessness. When the light dimmed, she looked up, only to find an unearthly presence in front of her. A figure enrobed in flowing white garments hovered before her, the features on its face so refined and graceful, so angled and soft at the same time, that it was impossible to tell whether it was that of a man or a woman. When it spoke, its voice carried out, richly layered with a thousand ringing tones and melodious like a chime and fearsome like thunder at the same time.

"Daughter of the land," it spoke, "small and afraid as you are, yet you harbored a stray animal and kept vigil over it through the darkest of nights. Your spirit so kind and your heart so strong, you placed the care of those who are weaker before your own. You are a monarch at heart, and you shall rule these lands, and your people shall prosper under your loving reign. You shall not be unfair, you shall mete out justice, and in times when calamity may threaten your people, you shall stand before them and be their human shield. And so that you may not crumble, so that you may stand firm, I bestow upon you my kiss of strength that will hold your limbs upright till your last breath may leave you." And so saying, the unearthly being swooped down and touched its lips to the little girl's forehead. "Henceforth, brave daughter of the land, as long as you and your daughters carry my kiss, you all shall never falter in your duty, and this land shall forever answer to you!"

Resounding applause shattered the air as the crowd of onlookers clapped their hands for all they were worth. Whoops and cheers rang around the square as the white-robed figure's speech came to a close and every person in the crowd hailed, "Praise the God of Horaizon!", "Praise His mercy upon us!", "Long live Halkeginia!!" Amidst the loud noise, the figure in white, who was undoubtedly portraying the God of Horaizon, vanished from sight, and the little girl turned around to find her way back home with renewed determination and courage. "I shall not falter."

A woman dressed in deep purple robes took over the narration and her deep voice struck out imposingly as she told the tale of how the little girl grew up to be Queen Akane, who united the entire land in the cradle of the mountains under one flag and established the kingdom of Halkeginia. "The first Queen Akane ruled with an iron hand and a heart of roses. She cared for all people. She set down the law and saw that it was followed, and under her reign, Halkeginia attained its eternal glory. She married wisely, and her daughter ruled after her, and _her_ daughter came next and so on. And every generation of the royal family would always only have one daughter and no sons, and every daughter would carry on the reign of their mother."

As the narration came to a close, Kanata looked around the crowd, expecting another round of applause to tear through them, and watched in surprise as instead, they appeared subdued and muted. Unrest rippled through the crowd and they started edging away from the square, huddling in groups and talking in whispers. Watching their patrons leave suddenly, the street performer brought her narration to a hasty conclusion and then signaled her fellow performers, who ran out with their scarves in their hands, spreading it out in front of people for money. Gold and silver jingled together as coins were dropped into the cloths, and as the square finally emptied, the performers took to disassembling their props and packing their things.

* * *

_Miyu is likely going to finally appear in the next chapter... I tried squeezing her in into this one, but it's SO HARD!!! ToT _

_Give the button below some love~_


	4. The Luckless Princess

_**The Luckless Princess**_

Kanata had retreated along with the crowd and now he stood in the shadow of one of the houses lining the square, observing the street performers thoughtfully. So, the Charm was just a blessing? A kiss bestowed upon each Queen? Did that mean there was no physical manifestation of the Charm? Or did that make the Queen herself the Charm? Were he to – God forbid – kidnap the Queen and take her to Fiore, and marry her to Prince Nozumu, would Fiore prosper as much as Halkeginia? But, the Queen may already be married, and—

At this point, Kanata shook his head and abandoned his train of thought. There was _no way_ in hell that he was going to _kidnap_ the Queen, married or not…! If he could not find the Charm, then he would just elope with Princess Christine – God _really_ forbid! – and then come back after they were already married and then let the motherly nature of Queen Hikarigaoka convince the old King of Fiore and thus, seek pardon and continue to stay there, albeit miserably. He shuddered at the thought of being wedded to Princess Christine, and quickly hoped that the Charm existed physically. In any case, he would need to know more about this legend of Halkeginia, and what better source than the street performers themselves?

Stepping out calmly from the shadows, he brought his hands together and clapped loudly. "Bravo…! Bravo…! That was a wonderful performance!"

As one, the street performers paused in their tasks and turned to regard the new arrival. They watched as a tall woman in a long lacy skirt walked towards them, clapping her hands and speaking words of praise. They frowned and looked at each other.

"I loved your performance! It was beautifully rendered, and extremely fascinating! As a visitor to Halkeginia, I am extremely enthralled by this legend of the Horaizon and the royal family. Wonderful!"

The little girl who had been the erstwhile star of the show raised her hand and pointed at Kanata. "Man."

"Huh?"

"You speak in a man's voice. You're a man."

"…"

~*~

Three hours later, Kanata sat in a brightly colored tent camped on a grassy hillock on the outskirts of the city, guzzling down gallons of ale and laughing hoarsely. After his charade had been exposed with such humiliating ease, he had dropped his disguise in front of the performers and told them the truth.

"You're right. I am a man. I hail from Fiore actually, and I was sent here by the old King of Fiore to steal the lucky Charm of Halkeginia."

The street performers had stared at him for a second before they had burst out laughing. Sometimes, honesty really was the best policy, especially when you knew no one would believe you. With a smile and a wink, he had been easily welcomed amongst them, and they had accepted his lie about being a jester in search of employment. A credible lie after an incredible truth was such a handy tactic…

They had taken him with them to their camp and he had shared made-up-on-the-spot stories of his travels with them. They in turn had told him tales from Halkeginia – from tales of how once a talking fish had scaled the peaks of Horaizon in search of his wife who was a talking crow, to the legends of how the panda bear came to be the emblem on the Halkeginian flag. With each tale, they drank even more ale and grew even more boisterous and it took lesser and lesser prodding to get them talking more. It had taken him more than two hours to finally bring them around to talk of the legend of the Charm, but in the end, he had succeeded.

The oldest member of their group, a shriveled white-haired woman, had finally begun to tell him about the Charm. "Aye, the legend of the Charm is one of the oldest…" Here she paused to take a swig from her jug of ale. "There are many of them, in truth, and no one knows which may be the real one." She paused to take another swig. "Some believe in this tale of the Queen Akane meeting the Spirit of Horaizon as a little girl lost in the mountains." Pause. Swig. "Some believe that the Spirit fell in love with a mortal woman and their child was our first Queen Akane." Pause. Swiiiiig. "And some believe that the Queen was mighty and valiant and audacious, and she stole the Charm from the Gods, and they feared her and dared not to take it back from her." Paaaauuuuuseee. Swwwiiiiiiiiggg. "Ahhh… The truth is really not known to anyone except the royal family. We hear only the rumors that seldom leak out of the palace." Pause. Swig. Swig. Swig. Swig. Swig. Swiiiii—

_Dammit!_ Kanata slapped his palm into his face. How many times does a woman need to swiiiiig while speaking?! And did she really need to make that annoying sluuuuurrrrping sound while swigging?! Kanata growled to himself and pinched his nose. The old woman was annoying him. And nothing she said had been of much use. So, all of it was just based on some rumor. It might not be true after all. Did that mean that even the people of the kingdom were kept in the dark about the real nature of the Charm? At this point, he became aware of an insistent tapping on his knee. He looked up to find the old woman gazing blearily at him.

"Young man," _*swig**slurp*_ "why do you seek to know about the Charm?" _*swig* *slurp*_

"I was just wondering… It is of no importance."

The old woman nodded, her ale-clogged mind not raising any objections to such an obvious lie. "The right place to know of the Charm would be the palace." Swig. Slurp. "Hmm… Although, I wonder…" Swig. Slurp. "I wonder…" Swig. Slurp. "Hmm…"

Gritting his teeth together, Kanata forced himself to be patient. "What do you wonder?"

"Hmm…" Swig. "I wonder…" Swig. "Maybe they have lost it." Swig.

"Lost it? _The Charm?!!!_"

"Hmm…" Swig. "Maybe…" Swig. "The Queen is dead – she died some years ago of an ailment that we know not." Swig. "And the Princess is eighteen already. She should have become the Queen this year." Swig. "But she has not found a husband yet, and no Princess may ascend to the throne without an able King by her side." Swig. "Unlucky, some call her." Swig. "She repels every suitor who approaches her." Swig. "We have not seen her, but some say she is ugly." Swig. "Some say she is rude and cruel and selfish, and none of the suitors like her." Swig. "Some even say that she be a wielder of unholy black magic – may God save us all!" Swig. "If this continues, and she does not become the Queen before the end of the year," Swig. "we know not what calamity may befall us." Swig. "No Princess has failed to become the Queen before." Swig. "Which makes us wonder, has she lost the Charm?" Swig. "Hmm…" Swig.

'_Interesting…_'

~*~

As Kanata made his way back to the inn where he and Santa were put up at, he pondered about the old woman's words. So, the current Queen was dead – thank God, he would not have to _kidnap_ her! – and the current Princess had apparently lost the Charm. All the easier for him to steal it since there was bound to be zero security around an object which no one knew the location of. But that was also the problem – _where to look?_ And the only people who were supposed to really know about it were the royal family. Every generation of the Queen would only ever have one daughter, and the current Queen was dead, which left the King and the Princess. Seeing as how this kingdom was ruled primarily by the Queen, he wondered how much real power the King held, and whether he was allowed to know about the Charm. And that left him with just the Princess.

'The luckless Princess…' Kanata smirked.

Why was she luckless? How was she luckless? The suitors would know what was wrong with her. But the old woman from the performers' camp had said that the suitors would not speak a word about the Princess other than to say that they did not wish to marry her anymore…

'Threatened to shut up, eh?' Kanata thought. 'So much for the "fair and just ruler!"'

In any case, the Princess seemed to be the only person who could lead him to this lost Charm, and he was going to use her, luckless or not.

But first, he needed to find Santa, and drag him back to the inn, because obviously, he must have gotten himself drunk and passed out outside some alehouse – the fool. And next, he needed to work on his female voice and speech. _How embarrassing!_

~*~

And thus, they journeyed to the city of Otto, the capital city of Halkeginia, to meet the luckless Princess. Their plan was to gain entrance into the palace by means of employment. Kanata was to seek the position of – to his great chagrin – a _handmaid_ to the Princess – _why oh why?!_, while Santa was to be a stable groom. As they traveled, they stopped at every inn they came upon, striking up fireside conversations and arming themselves with as much information about the Princess as they could.

The Princess Miyu was, by all accounts, a very cruel, selfish and hideous person. She had yellow teeth, chapped lips, ear lobes the size of moon, sideburns, moustache, and a hunchback. Her skin was like rumpled paper – crisp and wrinkly, none of the softness that a lady's skin should possess. Her hair was an ugly muddy brown color, and falling fast, leaving bald patches _everywhere!_ Her waist was wider than a hippopotamus' and her stomach was flabby. Her legs were stubby and her nails boasted of grime that even the sewer would be ashamed of! She was ill-tempered and vengeful, loved to eat children's legs, howled at the moon at midnight, could not be seen in mirrors, and worst of all, she bullied her servants to the point of tears!

Of course, her reputation was completely due to her inability to get herself a husband, which caused so much grief amongst the royal household. The kingdom had already been reeling from the loss of their glorious Queen – all hail her majesty! – and had been breathlessly waiting for the Princess to turn eighteen so that she could marry and take up the reign, but the rotten Princess _failed_ to land up married! The sheer ill-fortune she was wreaking on the kingdom! How dare she?!!

The King was wallowing in gloom. Miyu was the sole heir of the throne, and with her mother gone, the entire burden of finding a suitable groom for her had fallen on him. And so, he had sent out messengers throughout the kingdom, inviting those of noble lineage to come and try their luck. It was said, that the first suitors who had arrived at the palace had been ensnared by her black bewitchments and had been willing to marry her. So ardent were they in their desires, that frequent duels were fought all over the palace grounds for the sake of winning the Princess. The King, mightily pleased at his daughter's success in attracting suitors, arranged a tourney to determine the bravest young man fit to be the next King.

It was on the day the tourney was scheduled, early in the morning, that a suitor managed to break free of the bewitching spells undoubtedly cast upon him by the hideous Princess and he came to his senses. The horror of his situation – the possibility of being wedded to the shriveled witch whom he could never love – had dawned on him and he had fled the palace. But before he left, the brave and valiant unnamed suitor roused the other young men who were victims in the Princess' web as well. One after the other, the revived suitors had rejected the luckless Princess and run away, and their flight had warned other unwitting ambitious young men to rein in their ambitions and avoid certain doom.

And so, the Princess remained unmarried even at the age of eighteen, and the kingdom could only hope, and wait…

'So much for the glory of Halkeginia.' Kanata thought to himself. 'What an unlucky Princess, indeed.'

* * *

_Miyu finally makes an appearance! ^o^ ^o^ ^o^ Err... atleast, kinda sorta... Eheheheh~ *sweatdrop*_

_But, I promise she'll be in the story full-fledgedly from the next chapter (which I haven't written yet! ;) )_

_So... If you love Miyu, review!!! ^o^ ^o^ ^o^_


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